A New Project

Gotham City.

Perpetual clouds loomed over the grim modern metropolis, punctuated by occasional streaks of lightning. An unexpected downpour erupted from the overcast sky, hammering against the somber streets with a relentless fury.

Barbara Gordon sat in her wheelchair by the window of the clock tower, gazing down at the city through rain that hung like a waterfall. It was as if she were eyeing a slumbering demon.

Years ago, she had been one of the city's masked crusaders, Batgirl. That was before a green-haired madman in clown makeup had shot her, paralyzing her legs. Now, as Oracle, she was one of the world's foremost hackers, providing logistical support to her cape-clad comrades from this high vantage point over Gotham.

She had always despised rainy days, and time hadn't changed that, even in a city shrouded in perennial gloom.

The private elevator dinged—a sound reserved for the few with access. As Barbara turned her chair, Huntress emerged, breathless, leaning against the side panel. Her hair was disheveled, her purple cloak torn; she looked the picture of disarray.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "You didn't tell us you were back in Gotham."

The relationship between Barbara and Helena had always been strong, despite Helena's new role working for the government.

"I've been at the Gotham outpost for the past few days until they kicked me out—over this." Helena stepped forward, pulling a USB drive from her belt. "Please, I need your help. It's important."

Barbara took the drive, asking, "Let me guess, Bruce doesn't know yet?"

"I didn't tell him," Helena replied coolly.

"You might want to consider it," Barbara suggested as she inserted the drive into her computer. "After all, he's your father, and you can't avoid him forever. Besides, he needs you."

Helena stayed silent, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air.

Barbara expertly navigated to the drive's contents. The project labeled "sdeproject" popped up on her screen, along with the same warning dialogs and password prompts Helena had encountered. Barbara murmured the project's name, "This caused your rough day? It must be important."

"I just tried to access it, and they chased me like I was public enemy number one." Helena explained. "I attempted to crack it but failed, triggering an alert to their servers. I only managed to copy the data. But be careful—if you fail..."

"It might upload and expose our location. Thanks for the heads-up and the hot potato," Barbara said, half-complaining but with no hint of backing down. Her fingers flexed in preparation for the challenge ahead.

"You can handle it, right?" Helena asked. "You always do."

"Of course, just watch."

Barbara's casual tone belied the difficulty of the task. For the next half-hour, she worked in silence, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. The green lines of code flowed like a river across the black interface. Helena, not fully grasping the complexity, nonetheless sensed a tough battle. Barbara's expression was stern, like a chess master facing a formidable foe, deep in a fierce exchange of moves.

Helena waited patiently, taking a seat and fighting off drowsiness.

Eventually, the cascading code ceased, and a prompt of successful decryption timely appeared, eliciting a surge of excitement akin to conquering an infernal level in a game.

Barbara exhaled deeply, the weight of a marathon lifted. "This is some serious stuff, military-grade encryption—or even beyond. I can't remember the last time I had to crack something this tough."

"I told you it was important," Helena leaned in eagerly. "Open it, what's inside?"

Barbara opened the folder, revealing the lengthy list of names Jay had seen. As they delved into the files, the tale of extraterrestrial exploration and a Kryptonian visitor unfolded, echoing what Jay had learned from the project's lone survivor.

"So that's the Kryptonian kid's story," Helena muttered.

"Who?" Barbara, still processing the information, asked in surprise. "Are you saying this is real? A Kryptonian we didn't know about hiding on Earth, and you've met him?"

"Met him, Bruce too," Helena said nonchalantly. "Maybe I'll introduce you sometime—he's an interesting kid. Wait, isn't there an attachment?"

Barbara spotted the overlooked file named "sde-neo"—it appeared the project had a sequel.

They thought the first part was shocking enough, but the truly breathtaking content began here. As Barbara clicked the file open, Helena's breath hitched, questioning the reality of what was documented; the implications were staggering.

If this was true, everything they knew, experienced, and lived was a colossal deception.

Metropolis, Hospital.

Dusk descended on slumbering Metropolis; the sun retreated behind the city's silhouette, and artificial lights crept through the hospital room's solitary window. Kara had been by the bedside for hours, and Lois still lay there, unconscious and pale.

The silence in the large hospital room was broken only by the monotonous beeping of the heart rate monitor.

Jay landed on the balcony, silent as a breeze, but Kara sensed him. She stepped out and immediately saw the weariness and sorrow etched on his face.

"He was right there in front of me, that poor old man," Jay said morosely. "We were so close... but I couldn't save him."

"Jay—"

"I should have saved him," he continued, ignoring her attempt to console him. "I should have reacted faster, taken him out of the house before the flames... I should have noticed the bomb sooner, I—"

"Jay." She touched his cheek, locking eyes with his clouded blue gaze. "I don't know what exactly happened, but I can imagine because we've been there. But you have to remember, it's not your fault, okay?"

"I watched him turn to ash right before my eyes," Jay said, gripping her hand. "It felt like... like it was me burning."

"I know," Kara whispered. "We all feel that way, and you might feel it more, even worse than this. The trick is to remember that pain isn't yours. It's why we must help those in pain. Remember, as powerful as we are, we're not gods. We're just trying to make the right choices."

Jay was quiet for a moment before asking, "So this feeling, it never goes away?"

She nodded, "No, it doesn't."

Jay looked out over the illuminated city, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," he said. "I feel a bit better now."

After a pause, he added, "I have to go."

"I can help," Kara offered.

"No, I need you here to look after Lois, and my parents, too—they could all be in danger," Jay said. "I don't know who I'm up against, but they fired a missile at my office. And just as I found someone willing to tell me something, they blew up the house."

Kara covered her mouth: "By Rao, what is happening?"

"I don't know yet. But it's my fight now," Jay said, rising back into the air. "I need to understand this. Can I trust you to take care of them?"

"Of course." Kara nodded. "Go, do what you must."

"Thanks. I'm glad to have you by my side, really."

With a small smile and a swift motion, he became a blue streak, soaring into the night.